


Texting - Mitchell/Rem Dogg - Bad Education

by CurlyCarla



Category: Bad Education (UK TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlyCarla/pseuds/CurlyCarla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What were they anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, you two, stop flirting!”  
... ... ...  
“Guys! I realise it’s Valentine’s day, but could you please stop flirting?”  
... ... ...  
Remmie and Mitchell had been friends for years, long before they went to Abbey Grove, and over those said years, they formed a very close friendship. Not that they liked to admit it of course. The sad truth of it was, they both realised they were never going to get a girlfriend before they left Abbey Grove. So they formed what they liked to call a “Platonic Relationship or Some Shit”. In summary: No kissing, no romance, just enough flirting to cheer themselves up.  
Whenever they inevitably failed to catch a girl’s attention, they would turn to each other, and cheer each other up in the only way they knew how; by avoiding serious and meaningful conversation and making it sexual.  
... ... ...  
Mitchell slumped on his unmade bed, eyes closed. His date had gone horrifically, which was actually unavoidable, since his date didn’t even turn up. He groaned loudly, turning on to his front. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted Rem Dogg, who he had named on his phone as “Meals on Wheels”. The name was subject to change, depending on whenever he thought up a particularly clever wheel-based pun.  
Date didn’t turn up. But at least I had a date.  
The response quickly pinged back, testament to how antisocial they both were.  
Maybe she did, but took one look and did a runner.  
Maybe that’s why I should go out on a date with you, you couldn’t run away. Mitchell sent back, smiling.  
Sounds a bit rapey. Then again, it isn’t rape if you enjoy it ;)  
At least we definitely know who tops. Mitchell replied, flipping back on to his back, and shrugging off his jacket, a wide grin on his face.  
I don’t know man, the wheels could lead to something interesting :P  
I don’t want tyre marks on my dick, thanks.  
:P , came the first reply, then What are you wearing?  
Mitchell glanced down at his plain t shirt and jeans, thinking what he could lie about.  
Nothing much, I made myself comfortable.  
It’s far too hot out, isn’t it? But the heat isn’t the only thing that makes you sweat is it?  
You would know.  
For a couple of months they had continued in this charade, usually by text, sometimes in class, but rarely when they were actually alone together. Sometimes the texts would lead to “things happening” on Mitchells end, when he was truly desperate. This came across in his texts, and Rem Dogg could tell. He didn’t say anything about the unusually graphic texts, he would just reciprocate, “helping him out”, so to speak. They never, ever mentioned the particularly risqué texts when they were together, but sometimes the mellower texts were jokingly referred to in class, leaving their classmates to ponder what the true depth of their relationship was.  
Their conversation continued long into the night, until about 1 am, Mitchell sent Sorry mate, have to stop it there, wouldn’t want to injure myself ;P  
Fair enough. Not much more I can do to myself though. Maybe I’ll have a nice dream...  
Maybe you will. Say hi to me for me ;)  
You won’t be talking much. Night.  
Night.  
... ... ...  
Mitchell couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about the texts, and Remmie, and he couldn’t figure it all out. Now that he was actually thinking about it, not denying it to himself like he usually did, he couldn’t determine his true feelings. He sighed, turning over for the tenth time that hour.  
No, no, no. I can’t. I CAN’T think about this. Just push it back, push it down, like you usually do. Think about something else, anything else. A girl. A girl with huge tits, totally naked. There. That’s normal, you can think about that.  
But as hard as he tried, all he could think about was Remmie. Thoughts of him filled his head, his smile, the little wink that he would sometimes send his way in class, his hair that Mitchell always wanted to ruffle, his dark blue eyes...  
Before he could bottle out, he picked up his phone again, and rang Stephen.  
“Ugh, what do you want Mitchell? It’s like 3am.” Came Stephen’s groggy voice.  
“I need your advice.” Mitchell said quietly.  
“Oh, you’re finally coming to me for fashion advice. At last. Firstly, drop the hoodie, it does nothing for you. Second-”  
“Shut up, that’s not what I meant.” Mitchell interrupted.  
“Then what is it? If I don’t sleep, I’ll get spots. Make it quick.”  
“I... Um. I need relationship advice.” He mumbled.  
“Why are you coming to me? I’m literally the worst person to hand out girl advice. Unless... Wait. Oh my God, are you serious?”  
“Um...” Mitchell faltered, not sure what to say.  
“Is it a guy?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Who is it, who is it, who is it?!” Stephen all but shrieked down the phone.  
“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”  
“You’re finally coming to terms with your obvious homosexuality, yes it’s a big deal.”  
“Speak for yourself. And I ain’t gay. I’m just... I dunno what I am.” He admitted quietly.  
“Bicurious? Given your mysterious relationship with a certain boy in a wheelchair, I wouldn’t put it past you.”  
“How’d you know this was ‘bout Remmie?”  
“I didn’t, but thank you for telling me.”  
“Dickhead”  
“So after your years of flirting you’ve finally realised you love him? How cliché.” Stephen sounded patronising, and Mitchell already wanted to punch him. But right now, he needed Stephen.  
“I know, and I hate it.”  
“Just tell him how you feel, he won’t care. He’s bi anyway.”  
“Wait what?”  
“Just trust me on this one. Tell. Him.” And with that, Stephen hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Mitchell barely talked to Rem Dogg. Stephen kept shooting Mitchell meaningful looks, but he ignored them. He just wanted to get through the day without thinking about the night before at all.  
He had never been more thankful for the day to end, as he walked out of the classroom, he thought he had done pretty well for what was going through his mind. But as he was just about to turn the corner, he heard Stephen’s voice calling him.  
“Mitchell, could you come back for a minute please?”  
“Make it quick.” He said, imitating Stephen from the night before.  
“You need to talk to him. Now.” Stephen said seriously.  
“No.” He made to walk away but Stephen, instead of stopping him, yelled down the corridor.  
“OI, Rem Dogg, Mitchell wants to talk to you.”  
“What? No Stephen, no no no-” Mitchell stammered, but Rem Dogg was already by their sides.  
“I’ll bet he wants to talk to me.” Rem Dogg smirked.  
“Get in the classroom, it’ll all make sense.” Stephen said mysteriously, pushing Mitchell in the room, and shutting the door after him.  
“No idea you had a school fetish Mitchell.” Rem Dogg winked.  
“Shut up.” Mitchell said, embarrassed. He tried to open the door but Stephen had got Joe to lean on it from the other side.   
“So what’s this all about then?” Rem Dogg asked him, looking confused.  
“Um... I can’t say.” Mitchell said, looking at his shoes.  
“Text me.”  
“What?”  
“Text me.”  
“Um, okay.” Mitchell fished his phone out of his blazer pocket, and tapped out a message.  
The texts ain’t just texts any more. He sent, with trembling fingers.  
I think I like you more than I should.   
I want to be with you.  
Rem Doggs phone pinged 3 times, signalling the arrival of each of the texts. Before reading them, he looked up at Mitchell, searching his face, but Mitchell had looked away. While Mitchell strategised his escape of this prison of teenage angst and torment, Rem Dogg read the texts.   
“Come here.” Rem Dogg said quietly, after a minute of Mitchell wanting the fake wood classroom floor to swallow him up. Mitchell walked slowly towards him, prepared for the worst.   
“Lean down.”   
“What?”  
“How the fuck am I supposed to kiss you when you’re up there? Idiot.” Rem Dogg grumbled, before pulling Mitchell, by the tie, into a hard, deep kiss.  
Joe left after 5 minutes. They didn’t notice.


End file.
